


Beyond Late

by mrs_d



Series: Songs for the Morning [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Makeup Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 22:49:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5309981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was still a light on in Sam’s bedroom window. Steve had been getting nothing but Sam’s voicemail since he left four days ago to meet Tony and the Avengers in California; either Sam had been very busy, or he was angry with Steve, and Steve was getting more certain which it was every second he hesitated on the porch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Late

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, as ever, to my muses/beta readers: Clementine and [Hekkenfeldt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekkenfeldt).

It was beyond late — it was almost early — but there was still a light on in Sam’s bedroom window.

Steve had been getting nothing but Sam’s voicemail since he left four days ago to meet Tony and the Avengers in California, and now, he was too tired from two straight days of fighting to stop the wave of worry triggered by that glow behind the curtains. Either Sam had been very busy, or he was angry with Steve, and Steve was getting more certain which it was every second he hesitated on the porch.

After a minute, Steve told himself that he was being ridiculous. He squared his shoulders and put his key in the lock. If Sam didn’t want him here, he’d go. But he owed it to the man to at least explain himself before disappearing. Again.

He unlocked the door and crept inside, setting his shield down on the carpet and leaning it against the wall as quietly as possible. It was followed by the duffle bag containing his uniform and sidearm. He stepped out of his shoes and dawdled in the kitchen a few minutes before giving himself a shake and making his way to the bedroom.

When he pushed open the half-closed door, it was to see Sam asleep with an upside-down book under his hand, his body curled toward what had been Steve’s side of the bed for the last four weeks. Steve crossed the room and eased open the dresser drawer that had become his. He changed into his sleepwear, and then carefully slid the book off the bed. It was the Marvin Gaye biography he’d purchased for Sam last week on a whim. As he marked the page, Steve cursed his excellent memory, since he could tell that Sam had gotten no further in his reading since he left. He set the book on the nightstand and switched off the lamp. Sam stirred as he did so, but he didn’t wake.

Steve climbed into bed as carefully as he could and stayed on the edge of the mattress, listening to Sam breathe. Despite his earlier fatigue, sleep was now evasive. Steve forced himself to lie still despite the nervous energy spiking in his limbs as he assessed the situation and weighed his options. Maybe he would go, stay at a motel. In the morning they’d work it out. If Sam wanted to. If Sam didn’t... Finally, he decided he couldn’t stay.

He’d started to get up when Sam’s voice cut through the darkness, startling him. “The hell do you think you’re going?”

“I— uh. I thought I’d—” Steve stammered.

“Get your ass back in bed.”

“Sir,” Steve murmured before he could stop himself.

Sam seemed willing to ignore his cheek. He shifted closer to Steve when he lay back down but stayed on his back, keeping a few inches of buffer zone between them. In the half-light coming in from the street outside, Steve could make out the gleam of Sam’s eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.

“First things first,” Sam began. “Welcome back, glad you’re safe. Missed you, and all that jazz.”

“I missed you, too,” Steve started to say, but Sam cut him off.

“Second: don’t you ever do that again.”

Steve nodded. He deserved that.

“Third: I want you to explain to me why in the hell you don’t trust me.”

Steve frowned. Whatever he’d been expecting Sam to say, that wasn’t it. “I trust you,” he protested.

“No, see, I don’t think you do,” Sam told the ceiling.

“Sam—”

“When exactly did you start thinking I wasn’t good enough?” he demanded.

“What? I’ve never thought that.”

“Because before this—” Sam’s hand was a shadow waving in the air above them, and Steve knew he meant before they got involved romantically. “I thought we were pretty tight. This was going to be icing on the cake, you know? Partners out there, partners in here. But you...”

Sam let out his breath in a huff and continued, his voice still steady, tight with suppressed emotion. “Partners must mean something different to you than it does to me. To me, partners is partners. Out there, it means I save your ass when you jump off a damned helicarrier, and you save my ass when I run out of ammo. In here, it means we talk about shit. We don’t just take off whenever the mood strikes us.”

“Whenever the mood strikes us?” Steve repeated, unable to match Sam’s measured tone. “Sam, I left because I had to. Tony and Bruce had a run-in with a scientist trying to—”

“Oh, this is not about Tony and Bruce,” Sam interrupted again. “Or the Avengers, or SHIELD, or HYDRA, or even that ghost we’ve been chasing. This is about you, and this is about me.”

Steve felt the familiar heat in his chest that came from swallowing down his temper. He forced himself to breathe slowly, even as he gritted his teeth at the ceiling. “Sam,” he began in a lower voice. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s a start,” Sam muttered.

Steve threw up his hands and let them thump back down to the mattress. “What do you want me to say? You know I have responsibilities—”

“Yeah, I do.” With a rustle of blankets, Sam sat up. “In case you forgot, _Cap_ , I fought by your side the day SHIELD went down and at a hundred HYDRA bases since.”

“Not a hundred.”

“Not the point.”

For the first time all night, Steve felt Sam looking directly at him. He worked himself up into a seated position and reached out, touching Sam’s hand, but Sam pulled back. There was a loud click, and Steve was momentarily blinded by the lamp. He blinked rapidly. When his vision cleared, he was able to see that Sam’s mouth was set in a hard line.

“Sam,” Steve tried again. “I can’t always take you with me.”

Sam pointed into Steve’s face. “That. That right there, that’s the kind of bullshit I’m talking about.”

“What?”

“You’re not _taking me with you_ , Steve; I’m _choosing_ to go with you. How many times do I have to say it?” he asked, sounding more desperate than angry now.

Steve stared at him, lost for words, and, suddenly, he was somewhere else — he’d been yanked into the past, back to a bombed-out bar in London, breathing in the sickly scent of smoke and burned alcohol. He could almost see her, his best girl, his Peggy, her eyes clouded with pity and determination. She always knew what to say, what he needed to hear, how to get through to him. Her voice leapt out of his memory, clear as day: _Allow him the dignity of his choice. He must damn well think you’re worth it_.

“You’re right,” Steve said at last, and he wasn’t sure if he was answering Sam or Peggy.

Sam seemed to soften a little, but the flat toughness was still in his voice. “Look, I know you carry a lot on those big shoulders of yours, but you’re not responsible for me. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m in this, so don’t cut me out. And if something happens to me, it’s not your fault. I knew the risks when I signed up.”

Steve nodded. “Okay.”

“No more of this running off without a word business. You at least give me a chance to go with you or to say no, are we clear?”

“We’re clear,” Steve affirmed.

“Good,” said Sam briskly.

Steve reached out cautiously, and this time, Sam didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry,” Steve said again, taking both Sam’s hands in his. “Apparently I have a problem.”

“Just the one, huh?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to have a moment here.”

“My bad,” Sam replied. “Go on, have your moment.”

Steve took a breath and let the words out all at once. “After Bucky fell off the train, Peggy reminded me that he chose his path, that I shouldn’t blame myself.”

“Hm,” said Sam. His grip tightened incrementally. “Didn’t take, though, did it?”

“You tell me.” Steve smiled a little sadly. “But she was right. And so are you. You remind me of her so much sometimes.”

“How so?”

“She was furious the first time I tried to protect her. Told me she could fight her own battles.”

“So, what you’re saying is she called you on your hero BS.”

Steve chuckled, caught off guard as always by Sam’s quick, clever comebacks. “I suppose. And so do you.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Steve raised Sam’s hands to his face and kissed his fingers. It was an old-fashioned gesture that Sam was a bit of a sucker for, though he’d never admit it outside the bedroom.

“And I am sorry,” Steve repeated. “For the... fifth time?”

“Something like that.”

At last, Sam smiled fully, and it was like the moon on a clear summer night — beside it, the lamp seemed to dim. Steve couldn’t resist. He shifted his hands to Sam’s waist and leaned in to meet Sam’s lips.

“You know, I really did miss you,” Sam said, pulling back. His fingers brushed the thin skin on the inside of Steve’s wrist.

“Yeah?” Steve said, chasing Sam’s mouth, but he stayed out of reach.

“Yeah,” Sam repeated. “Four days is kind of a while for us.”

Steve thought for a moment, counting back, and realized Sam was right. “Yes,” he began. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No no no, stop that,” Sam interrupted. “Get over here and kiss me like you mean it.”

Steve’s heart sped up, and he did as Sam said. The prickle of Sam’s beard made Steve’s mouth water for more, but he kept it light, his tongue dipping in and out of Sam’s mouth, trying to savor the sensation as long as possible. Without breaking away, he raised himself to his knees and pulled Sam up with him. The bed sheet tangled slightly around their limbs as he brought Sam closer — Steve never tired of the way Sam’s body stayed steady and strong against his.

Sam made a frustrated noise and tried to deepen the kiss, so Steve broke it, moving his mouth up Sam’s jaw to tease at his earlobe. Sam’s breathing became a little ragged as Steve licked a line back to Sam’s mouth. He gave him a brief taste of the hot, heavy make-out session he knew Sam wanted, before pulling away again and kissing down Sam’s neck to the collar of his t-shirt, which he tugged at with his teeth.

“You’re a tease,” Sam groaned.

“Just want to take care of you,” Steve replied, reaching down to where Sam’s cock was beginning to tent his pyjama pants. Steve didn’t touch it; he pressed the fabric down until its head poked out of the fly. Sam’s fingers burrowed into the short hair at the back of Steve’s neck as Steve continued to nip at his collarbone.

“You know,” Sam said a little breathlessly. “Most people would say, _Hey Sam, why don’t you take your shirt off_ instead of just trying to rip it.”

Steve grinned against Sam’s warm skin. “One, I’m not most people. And two—” Steve slid his hands down Sam’s torso and let his fingers circle the tip of Sam’s cock, making Sam twitch and tighten his grip on Steve’s neck. “Maybe I don’t just want you to take your shirt off.”

“I see. What do you want?” Sam asked, sounding dazed.

Steve leaned into Sam’s neck until he could feel his pulse against his lips. “I want to make it up to you,” he murmured, licking Sam’s slightly sweaty skin. “Let me make you feel good?”

Sam’s head jerked in a minute nod, and Steve sucked on his neck as he pulled up the hem of Sam’s shirt and ran his hands over Sam’s abdomen. Steve felt like he could touch Sam forever. He worked Sam’s shirt up over his head and gripped his firm waist once more, turning them and leaning Sam back until his head was on his pillow. Steve pinned him then, kissing him roughly, thoroughly, his mouth dragging across the faint line of hair on Sam’s upper lip until his own lips felt swollen from the abuse.

Eventually, Steve pulled back, ducking his head to close his mouth around Sam’s right nipple, which hardened immediately. He flicked his tongue against it, just to feel Sam arch up slightly, and reached over to tease the other side with his fingers. He worked them in the same rhythm, switching sides every few seconds until Sam was writhing, and Steve could feel the hot pressure of his erection even through their clothes.

“Steve,” Sam breathed at the ceiling. “Come on, man. It’s been four days, I’m dying here.”

Steve shifted forward to kiss Sam’s mouth, gentle again. “Sorry,” he said against Sam’s lips when they parted. It wasn’t what he meant to say, but it felt right. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

Sam’s brown eyes were confused for a second, but then they turned soft with understanding. “I know, baby.”

The endearment made Steve blush, like it always did. He ducked his head and nuzzled Sam’s bearded chin. Sam’s hands came up around his face, though, lifting it until they were looking into each other’s eyes again.

“You know I love you, right?” said Sam quietly.

Steve nodded, but his throat closed up when he tried to speak.

“It’s okay if you can’t say it back right now,” Sam went on. “I just wanted you to hear it.”

Steve nodded again, then breathed a little sigh. “I suck at talking,” he said to Sam’s chest.

Sam snorted, then shook until it burst out of him, and he threw back his head, laughing at the ceiling.

“Oh, shut up,” Steve muttered, but he grinned, his face heating again.

“No, it’s true,” Sam managed. “You’re terrible at it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed the underside of Sam’s jaw, since he couldn’t get at his mouth, then reached down to close his fist around Sam’s cock, which ended Sam’s laughter abruptly with a breathy _Oh_.

Steve gave Sam his wicked smile, but didn’t reply, instead pumping Sam’s cock slowly. Steve loved Sam’s hot length in the palm of his hand, loved wrapping his fingers around its thickness, loved the way Sam’s eyes fluttered shut when he thumbed at the head. After a moment, Steve moved up to kiss Sam’s mouth gently, then back down to circle each of Sam’s nipples once with his tongue. He didn’t linger this time; he had a mission, after all.

When his lips finally closed around Sam’s cock, Sam let out a sigh and his body went slack. Steve knew the feeling. It was like coming home — the taste of Sam’s skin, the smell of his body, so familiar to Steve even before those nights chasing HYDRA, before the flea-bag motels, before the flimsy excuses to stay close to one another, before the heat between them had finally sparked into hot, bright flames.

“Steve,” said Sam suddenly, “could you—?” Sam shifted, his hands fiddling with the waistband of his pants.

Steve gave a long hum of agreement that made Sam squirm beneath him, then he pulled up to lift Sam’s hips and roll his pyjama pants down his legs. Sam murmured something that might have been _Thanks_ , but Steve wasn’t paying attention to Sam’s words; he was too busy running his hands along Sam’s bare thighs and easing them open, so he could tease Sam’s balls with his tongue. He pulled them into his mouth one at a time, sucking and kissing and rubbing his nose along the dark hair at the base of Sam’s cock.

“Shit, man,” Sam muttered. “Take your time, why don’t you?”

Steve licked up, hard, until his tongue caught the familiar sharp-sweet taste of pre-come, then he swallowed Sam deep. Sam arched up, the head of his dick nudging the back of Steve’s throat, and Steve sucked, hollowing his cheeks and breathing through his nose, giving head the best way he knew how because Sam deserved it — Sam always deserved it — and because he liked doing it, plain and simple.

Something wet brushed his temple suddenly; Sam had licked his finger and started tracing the shell of Steve’s ear, a sensitive place. Steve felt his half-hard cock twitch behind the loose fabric of his sleep pants. He fumbled up with one hand until he found Sam’s and took it away, holding it against the mattress beside Sam’s thigh instead, and looked up. Sam’s eyelids were drooping, and Steve could practically feel the heat of arousal that had spread from his cheekbones all the way to his pectorals — two of Steve’s favourite parts of Sam’s body, though he loved all of it, all of Sam.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve told him. “Just let me—”

He teased the slit of Sam’s cock with his tongue, eager for more of his taste, and left his sentence unfinished as he went back to giving Sam as much pleasure as he could. He listened to Sam’s body — his breathing, punctuated by muttered profanities; the muscles twitching in his thighs; the tightness of his balls, hot in Steve’s palm.

“Come for me,” Steve said around him when he could feel Sam’s pulse hammering in his hands and against the roof of his mouth.

The words were muffled, obviously, but Sam's hand tightened on Steve's nonetheless. He exhaled Steve’s name; his face contorted beautifully, and his abdomen clenched as he came in Steve's mouth. Steve swallowed, and Sam kept coming, kept his grip almost to the point of pain. Steve felt an absurd burst of pride that he could make Sam feel this good; he wanted nothing more than to do it again, every single day, for the rest of his life.

Steve gentled his sucking as Sam came down from it. He licked him clean until Sam ran his fingers down through his hair and nudged at his jaw. It was their signal, so he kissed Sam’s cock one more time and came up to stretch out beside him. Sam was looking more than a little sleepy.

“You might suck at talking, but you don’t suck at that,” he mumbled, his eyes closing. “I ever tell you that before?”

“Might have mentioned it a couple times,” Steve replied, smirking.

He pulled the blankets up to cover them, then leaned across Sam to get the light. When he lay back, Sam folded himself around Steve, the way he’d been lying when Steve first came in, only this time the bed wasn’t empty beside him.

“I’ll get you in the morning,” Sam told Steve’s shoulder.

“Hush.” Steve pulled Sam closer, wrapping his arm around him. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Someone has to,” Sam said sluggishly.

“All right,” Steve conceded with a small smile. “But for now, let’s just sleep.”

Sam nodded, the slow prickle of his beard scraping Steve’s chest, and his breathing evened out less than a minute later. Steve matched it and allowed himself to revel in the warm ball of happiness that seemed to have settled in his chest. He was home, he was safe, and he could rest here in his lover’s arms. Tomorrow they would go on. Together. As partners.

He kissed the top of Sam’s head. “I love you, too,” he whispered right before sleep drifted over him. 


End file.
